A Brush of Royal Blue
by AnbarElectrum
Summary: Yami's gone, and Yugi's gone on living-which is good-but he's gone on alone-which is not. But even though everyone has their own story, everyone's story has plot-holes...even Yugi's. A quirk of Time might give Yugi the edge he needs to bring Yami back, but he's at peace, right? Can Yugi live knowing he's taken Yami from that? Well, no. Can he live knowing he never tried? Hell no.
1. The God in My Own History

_**A/N: On the subject of the Egyptian language: I tried to be faithful to it here, but there are…**_**instances.**_** For example, the closest thing to a translation for **_**game**_** I found was **_**senet, **_**which is of course a very specific Egyptian game. Therefore I was forced to use the word **_**heba**_** instead. Some clever fanfiction author found out that it meant game in **_**some **_**ancient language or another, so I used it here.**_

_**A few non-spoilery details of Yu-Gi-Oh GX (assuming you care about that; I'm not fond of it, but it has its fans, I'm sure) are used as plot devices.**_

_**This story is set in my bizarre merge-verse. That is to say, while the characters are referred to by their English names and their speech patterns and character details resemble their English versions, and of course they live in America, they **_**act **_**a bit more like their original Japanese versions than they might, especially where the Tea/Yugi/Yami relationships are concerned. There is also a certain amount of Japanese used. You see, according to my logic, Domino City is obviously an American town which possesses a healthy population of Japanese immigrants and their descendants. Thus, Americans with Japanese names, builds, habits, and tastes. Also, I count the first volume of the manga (Season 0) in my head-canon. And, finally, I do not call Bakura "Ryou" and Yami no Bakura "Bakura". I spell YB's name as 'Bakhu'ra', which looks FAR more Arabian than 'Bakura', and I call Bakura 'Bakura', because it's his name. Of course, occasionally characters don't give a damn and well...context. Context is a beautiful thing.  
**_

…_**Well, **_**I **_**thought it was clever.**_

_**For any fans of the original Japanese who are unfamiliar with the dub names, allow me:**_

_**Jonouchi 'Jou' Katsuya: Joseph 'Joey' Wheeler**_

_**Kawai/Jonouchi Shizuka: Serenity Wheeler**_

_**Honda Hiroto: Tristan Taylor**_

_**Mazaki Anzu: T**__**é**__**a Gardner (spelt 'Tea' by me, because I'm too lazy to put in the accent every. Freaking. Time.)**_

_**Malik/Marik Ishtar: Marik Ishtar**_

_**Isis Ishtar: Ishizu Ishtar**_

_**Aaand I think that's everyone that's actually in this one. Cool.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

Eighteen-year-old Yugi Motou was packing his room, preparing everything for the move to Sennen University. He'd already filled his trunk with all his clothes—his black tank-tops, dark dress shirts, the buckled leather vest he hardly ever wore anymore but was taking with him so that his grandfather wouldn't have to worry about space; all the black pants, both denim and leather (he couldn't help it; he'd gotten used to it) and his black dress shoes. He was already wearing the flat-heeled boots.

There was a long, flat box at the bottom of this trunk—a box of clothes that he really _did_ never wear anymore. A box filled with gleaming silver buckles and a chain-link belt, with studded leather bracers and a black leather buckled choker, with a pair of high-heeled leather boots covered in studs and straps and buckles. A thick, studded belt with a deck case hanging off the side of it.

And of course, the coat.

He'd returned the rest of his school uniform at the end of last year—it would be added to the second-hand stock, for families whose money was tight. But Yugi couldn't get rid of the coat. It hurt to even look at it; there were no words to describe the torture it had been to put it on every day for school. Yugi couldn't wear his little school blazer without remembering how it had always looked on _him_, how it swirled and billowed at his hips, stirred by a wind that wasn't there; how it always seemed somehow a deeper shade of blue when _he_ wore it. He couldn't look down at his cuffs without imagining another pair of hands in place of his, graceful shapely slender-fingered hands that could shuffle a deck with blinding speed or roll a die with unerring precision. He couldn't look in the mirror and adjust the collar without thinking, _something's missing_, without remembering the way a thick, heavy chain had once draped inside that same collar, each link as solid and unbreakable as that personified by the heavy golden pendant they had supported.

Yes, the memories hurt. But not as much as getting rid of them would.

Yugi fingered the newer, softer choker around his neck as he surveyed the rest of his room. Even though he didn't need to wear something around his throat to cushion the Puzzle chain anymore (and _God_, did it hurt to remember that) he'd gotten so used to having something there that when his throat was bare it felt…exposed. Vulnerable. And damn _weird_ when he swallowed. It had taken about two days of constantly holding his hand around his throat to realise he needed something there. Now a wide choker of canvas lined with silky-soft cotton wound its way around his throat. Golden Zodiac signs were embroidered around it—Pisces and Gemini always gave him a bit of a pang, but it was beautiful all the same. It was blue, of course. Royal blue. _His _colour. And he'd always loved the stars—ever changing, ever constant, a link to the past and the future but always _here_, now.

After all, Yugi would never be able to forget him. Trying to _bury_ memories of him would just be…disrespectful.

Tea, Bakura, and Serenity had been the only ones to realise the significance of his choice in neckwear, but all three had filed it away under 'Signs of Moving On'. And if it made them happy to think that, Yugi was more than happy to let them. He was glad all his old friends from Domino High would be coming to Sennen University with him. It would have been very lonely on his own.

Reluctantly, Yugi turned towards the last unpacked item in his room. Opening the bottom-right drawer of his desk, he lifted out a golden box. The box which had once contained the pieces of the Millennium Puzzle. Now it held his Duel Monsters cards, the cards which Yugi hadn't used since _he _had pressed them into Yugi's hands six months ago, moments before he had stepped through the doors and broken Yugi's world into pieces. The deck which Yugi had used to defeat these cards, these amazing unbeatable cards that they had spent years refining together, had been dismantled and redistributed to whoever wanted them.

It had taken all of Yugi's willpower not to burn every last card from that last deck, to watch them peel and crumble the same way he was inside. But it wasn't their fault, wasn't their choice. Not to mention that even if the Shadow Realm _was_ sealed away, even if they were just so much pretty paper now, he'd never have been able to get the accusing voice of the Dark Magician Girl—of Mana, he reminded himself—out of his head.

_This_ deck, on the other hand, he had no grudge against. These cards were _their _cards, not Yugi's, not _his_, but _theirs_. This deck was _the_ deck. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Yugi reached into the box and lifted out the deck. The weight of it in his hand, the feel of the paper against his skin; it was all so achingly familiar…

He flipped through the cards gently, smiling softly each time he saw a particularly beloved face. Queen's Knight…Valkyrion…Dark Magician…Kuriboh…

_You've really got to get over this humiliation game—I mean, beating someone is one thing, but every time we're up against someone _famous_, out comes little Kuriboh-of-the-three-hundred-Attack-Points to kick their asses,_ Yugi told his other silently, giggling slightly. _Kind of cruel, don't you…think…_

Yugi felt hot tears stinging his eyes. Damn, damn, _damn_. This was always the hardest; the times when he really _did_ seem to be moving on, when it didn't hurt. And then he realised that it didn't hurt because—because he'd forgotten. Forgotten that there was a reason to hurt. Forgotten that he was alone. _Deluded_ himself into forgetting.

It would be far better to feel alone every minute of every day than to have those blissful moments of delusion, the moments where all was right with the world and it was just another day and another conversation with the ancient spirit possessing his body (because _that_ was the epitome of normalcy—if you were Yugi, anyway). Because it hurt too damn much when the words just echoed and echoed with no reply, because there could be no reply, _there could_ _never be a reply._ He was alone, now and forever, and if he could just _accept that_ and _move on_, things could get better. Right?

"Yugi? Are you almost done?" Solomon called up.

"Just about, Grandpa!" Yugi called back, holding his voice level through force of practice. Everyone liked to pretend he'd moved on, and Yugi had learned how to feed the façade for them. Hell, maybe they even _believed _it, now.

Should he take the cards, or leave them? To Joey, to Duke, to Tristan, to Kaiba, leaving them would seem like a sign that he was finished, that he was giving up—because these cards were so much of who he was to them. To Tea, though, or Ishizu, it would be a sign that he was moving on, shaking off _his _presence along with the game that had brought so much strife.

In the end, he packed them in the bottom of one of his cardboard boxes of other games—_nothing special. Just one more card game in with all the rest._

The Duel Monsters World Championship was in December, when most colleges would be on Winter Break. Would he go? Did he even have a choice? Did they _let_ the World Champion skip those things?

Yugi picked up the last two boxes in his room—the game box and a box of books—and left the room, leaving the door open behind him, the stripped and empty room open for all to see. Gingerly, he felt his way down the stairs and when at last he reached the shop, he set his armload of boxes on top of the others.

"There you are," Solomon smiled. "Yugi, have you taped up all of those boxes yet?"

"This one's just folded," Yugi said, tapping the book box.

"Perfect. In that case, here." Solomon handed him a photo frame. The picture inside…

Yugi bit his lip. He hadn't even remembered this photo existed. In it, Solomon stood before the counter of the game shop, with Yugi sitting on the glass above and beside him, beaming into the camera.

But for some reason—some unknown combination of film, lighting, developing chemicals, and who knew what other factors—there was a third shape visible in the frame: the faded, mostly-transparent image of a teenage boy who looked like a taller, sharper-featured version of Yugi himself, right down to the clothes and hair. He was seated next to his partner; not posing but simply staying near him as a matter of course. Not expecting to be caught on camera, the spirit was not looking at the lens but rather at Yugi and Solomon. He had a rare, faint smile on his face as he watched both the young boy whose body he shared and Yugi's grandfather with oddly gentle eyes a few shades darker than Yugi's own. Yugi remembered the day this had been taken—quite a while after Duelist Kingdom, but a few months before Battle City began and started them on the path that would thrust them towards their 'destiny'—towards their goodbyes—at Mach Ten.

'Goodbye' should _really_ be stricken from the knowledge of the human race.

"Oh, Grandpa," he managed.

"He's in a few others as well from before this—little blurs, things you wouldn't even see unless you were looking for them," Solomon said, his own eyes rather suspiciously bright as well. "And I think he tried to stay out of most of the ones afterwards, but even when you can see him, he's…drawn in. Masked, and hidden by all the others in the frame. But this one…you can see _him_, the real him, and I like that. I like to be able to look at this and be reminded of _both _of my wonderful grandsons."

"Then why are you giving it to me?" Yugi asked, wiping his eyes.

"I'm told it's tradition for people to take photos of their family with them when they go off to college," Solomon said wryly. "And I can't think of a single better picture of our family. Can you?"

Yugi wrapped his arms around his grandfather, clutching tightly to the photograph in his hands. "_Arigato,_ _jii-chan_," he said, using Sugoroku 'Solomon' Motou's native language for a change.

"Of course, Yugi."

* * *

_Two Years Ago…_

Osiris reared up and parried the attack from Neos with a swipe of his massive tail, before opening his jaws. With a roar, a crackling blast of energy seared forth, blasting Neos into pixels.

And Jaden Yuki's Life Points dropped to zero as Osiris the Sky Dragon faded from sight.

Jaden's jaw dropped, and he blinked. "Wow. You really are the King of Games, huh?"

Yugi—or the Spirit possessing him—smirked. "So they tell me."

Jaden grinned. "Sh'yeah. No kidding. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

The Spirit looked sombre. "I haven't the faintest idea. Most people—those who are aware of my existence, at any rate—call me _Yami_."

"Yami. Cool. I'm—"

"Jaden Yuki, one of the best Duelists I've ever had the honour to face and who can, peculiarly, see spirits." Yami approached him, raising, straightening, and lowering his arm as he went. The Holo-Projectors un-clamped themselves from the pavement and re-attached themselves to his Duel Disk, which folded inward on his forearm into a formation like a bird with wings at rest. "How is that?"

Now that Yami was closer, Jaden could see the differences that had overtaken him. Yugi's open, pleasant face had turned sharply handsome, all exotic angles, from his narrow chin to his wide cheekbones to his slightly-slanted deep violet eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. Yami also seemed to be taller and slenderer, with a lithe, almost feminine build.

A lot like Yugi had been in Jaden's time, come to think about it.

"Long story," Jaden commented, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "So you and Yugi just, you sort of live like this?"

"No 'sort of' about it," Yugi replied, materialising beside Yami. "I don't know what I'd do without him."

"Nor I without you," Yami replied evenly, meeting Yugi's eyes, and the younger Duelist shrugged and smiled.

Yami's heavy necklace glowed for a moment, and then it was Yugi who stood before Jaden and Yami who stood translucently at his side.

"Why don't you come in, have some tea? Or coffee, soda, juice, whatever," Yugi offered.

Jaden shrugged. "Sure, I got some time to kill."

It was true; from what Future Yugi had said, Jaden had about another hour before the magic which sent him back in time nine years reversed, returning him to Graduation Day at the Duel Academy.

After removing his Duel Disk and placing it carefully on the counter of the Kame Game Shop, Yugi handed Jaden a cold Coke, fixing himself a cup of sweet milky tea.

Half-an-hour later, Jaden had heard most of the story—how Yami had been sealed in the Millennium Puzzle until Yugi put it together and set him free; of how the Puzzle embodied the inexorable link between their two spirits, of how their souls were part and parcel of the same being.

Kinda weird. He hadn't remembered seeing the Puzzle around Future-Yugi's neck, nor had he sensed the presence of a spirit. Jaden could feel the dark, heady _power_ of Yami's presence this very moment, had felt it since he'd first appeared in front of the Game Shop before Yami had ever revealed himself, could sense some sort of communication between Yugi and the mysterious being during their duel. It didn't make any sense; from what Jaden could tell, they were almost totally dependent on each other, some weird kind of symbiosis tying them together. What had happened to drive them apart…?

Well, no matter what it had been, his mission was clear, and so when Yugi retreated to the kitchen to recycle Jaden's can and put his teacup on the stove, Jaden approached his goal. It had taken him a good five minutes of searching during Yugi's story (and searching was a _pain_ when you couldn't move around, yo) but at last he'd spotted it.

He lifted the picture frame off the side table (it had been turned inward towards the couch so that a casual observer wouldn't be able to look at it closely) and flipped it over long enough to scribble something on a bit of paper, using the back as a flat surface. For a moment he examined the picture; Yugi, his gramps, and Yami all gathered in the front of the Kame Game Shop.

Cool. He hadn't known spirits could be caught on film. But he didn't have time to think about that. Instead, he lifted out the back of the frame and slipped in his cargo: two folded slips of notepaper, one new and hastily folded, one neatly squared and sealed with tape, and a Duel Monsters card.

He wasn't sure why Future Yugi was so insistent that his past self have this card; Jaden already knew for a fact that Yugi had it…but oh well; he'd just have to assume that the adult King of Games knew what he was doing.

Then he replaced the bit of cardboard and carefully positioned the frame back onto its little table. He managed to take his seat again before Yugi returned, Yami spectrally visible beside him. Jaden spent another pleasant fifteen minutes talking to them before he started to get a very strange feeling at the tips of his fingers.

He made a show of checking his watch. "Oh my gosh! I've gotta get going!"

Yugi looked surprised. "Oh! We've been talking for over forty-five minutes! I'm so sorry to keep you busy."

"Nah, that's okay. Hey, maybe I'll see you again sometime, huh?" Jaden winked.

"Yeah, I can't wait!" Yugi beamed.

"Later, man!" Jaden called over his shoulder as he left the game shop. Then he broke out into a run, making for the clock at Domino Square.

Just as he got there, the world around him faded.

* * *

_Nine Years Later..._

"I still can't believe you went for a Coke instead of a cup of Assam," Yugi groused in his baritone voice.

"I was _thirsty, _okay?"

Yugi chuckled, smirking lightly. Piercing deep violet eyes caught Jaden's brown ones. "Have you remembered yet? The most important lesson?"

"Well, I…I don't know," Jaden replied, grinning and rubbing his neck.

Yugi raised an eyebrow. "I think you have. You're smiling again. But I didn't know if you'd realise it consciously." He gestured around him. "This desert isn't real. It represents your heart. See how there are clouds gathering, ready to bring rain? How, while warm, the heat isn't unbearable? You have begun to remember what it is to be a Duelist.

"Once you fully realise what you truly learned from your duel today, you will no longer be in a desert. You will be home."

"Gotcha," Jaden murmured, looking around. Well, if this was his own heart, he probably wouldn't die of heatstroke while he was here.

Yugi smirked again and turned away. "Oh, and Jaden."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said softly. "Your duel with me may have been the key to restoring your faith, but it was also the key to healing _me_, not long later…" He chuckled. "In point of fact, I believe you may have saved my life."

"Um…okay…?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just think, Jaden. What most struck you about our duel?"

And for a moment, Jaden could see him striding away across the sands—hadn't he been wearing a coat before, it looked more like a _cloak _now—and then he was gone.

_What most struck you about our duel?_

Their duel. A duel for the ages. The duel in which Jaden had stood and _known_ he had met his match…known he was going to lose. He _had _known, hadn't he? He just hadn't thought about it. Because…because…

Jaden's eyes lit up.

"Gotcha!" he shouted to the sky. "That was a fun duel!"

And the desert melted around him, and suddenly he was back at the gates of Duel Academy.

"Jaden!" That was Syrus!

"Where'd you come from?! You're back!" Alexia!

"Aw man, guys," Jaden laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I _told_ you."

But as he lay in bed that night, happy and content in a way he hadn't been since his first days at the Academy, one thought just _would not_ leave him alone.

Yugi had been in his late teens when Jaden had duelled him. But now, less than ten years later, at the age of twenty five he looked…different. Completely different. Jaden guessed it was _possible_ he could have gotten so much taller and even for his face to change shape so drastically…but surely, if his voice was going to drop to a baritone, it would have been showing signs of doing so at sixteen?

* * *

_Seven Years Later: Present Day_

"I'm so glad we decided to buy a house," Tea burbled happily. "_Way _better than dorms."

"Well, with so many of us attending the same university, it wouldn't have made any sense to cram us all into small dormitories heaven-only-knows how far away from each other," Bakura said sensibly, pushing a roller full of dark lilac paint over the walls of his and Marik's room. He frowned at the colour as more paint speckled his hands—he really wasn't a purple person, but then, he didn't like to let such trivialities as the colour of a room bother him.

It was one of the ways you could tell that the spirit of the Thief King was well and truly gone. Bakura frowned. He'd never told anyone, but he sort of missed the guy. Sure, he'd been sociopathic, psychotic, melodramatic, and homicidal, but he'd been company. And without Bakhu'ra, he'd never have met his boyfriend Marik. And, well, no matter how bad Bakhu'ra Akefia had been to all Ryou Bakura's friends, he'd always been _decent _to Ryou—Bakura guessed it wouldn't do to mistreat the guy whose body you needed in order to fulfil your life's-and-death's mission of vengeance. You might antagonise him, and he might start fighting back. But on lonely nights, nights of hiding from his friends for fear they would see the Millennium Ring and _know_, just _know _that he'd let the spirit back in, Bakhu'ra would open up and _talk _to him, just…talk. And sometimes, Bakura found himself returning the favour.

Once, he'd even openly admitted something to the spirit: "You frighten me."

Bakhu'ra had blinked ghostly brown eyes at him. "I…frighten you?"

Bakura had nodded, bracing himself for the explosion. After all, none of what they'd talked about had really scratched the surface of their…whatever this was, this talking thing.

"That's not intentional," the Thief King had frowned. "_You're _not supposed to be frightened of me, you _are _me. Well, reincarnation-wise. Actually you're probably _related _to me; what are the odds of an Egyptian and a Japanese-Brit having the same bloody name?"

Pretty low, Bakura had reflected, and told the spirit so.

Bakhu'ra had nodded. "You're just going to have to deal with most of this fear thing. I _am_ frightening, _yadonushi_, and don't you _dare_ forget it. But I can try—with little things, like this—to try and convince you that _you_ don't need to be afraid."

"But I do," Bakura had whispered. "For my friends. It doesn't matter what you act like, it's what I'm afraid you'll do to them."

"You're talking about the brat who carries the Pharaoh's soul?"

"He's one of them."

"Then I'm sorry, _yadonushi_, but if you're frightened of me as long as I fight him, you're going to be frightened for a long time. For the sake of _my_ friends, _my_ family…prepare to be _terrified."_

He'd left then, but they'd still met, still talked. Bakura actually felt sort of bad for him, as piece by piece, the story of Kul Elna unfolded before him.

And then Bakhu'ra had gone, without ever doing lasting damage to the souls, minds, or bodies of Yugi or his other friends, and the Pharaoh had followed just as peacefully_._ But Bakura had still lost two of his friends. Forever.

"Hello? Earth to Bakura-_kun_?" That was Yugi, waving a hand in front of his face and smiling.

"Oh! Sorry, Yugi-_kun_, I was just…thinking." He blushed lightly, smiling sheepishly and moving stray strands of white hair out of his face with the back of his wrist—his hands were too paint-splattered to do any good.

Yugi picked up a roller and knelt beside Bakura, getting all the low places the albino teen had meant to get once he'd finished the upper part of the wall. "Thanks," Bakura added.

"Bakhu'ra?" Yugi asked.

For a moment Bakura waited, thinking Yugi had said his name and begun a question; then he noticed the slight difference in pronunciation, the one he hadn't even realised was there until Yugi had explained it to him. It was spelled differently too, or so Yugi had been told by the Pharaoh—who had been pretty much the only person who actually enunciated the difference on a regular basis.

"Yeah," Bakura replied, not meeting Yugi's eyes. "I mean, it probably seems weird to you, but he was my friend. He…took care of me, even while he was being so horrible to all of you. I don't know if it was Stockholm Syndrome or what, but…he didn't hurt me, not really. Not like he did you." It was the first time he'd ever explained this to anyone but Marik. The Egyptian teen had understood immediately; during their brief alliance in Battle City, the two thieves had become fast friends, albeit in a We-Two-Evil-Masterminds-Against-The-World sort of way.

Who'd've thought?

"Doesn't seem weird at all," Yugi replied, running his roller through the pan of purple paint.

Bakura looked down at him, surprised.

"Come on, you didn't think the Pharaoh was _perfect,_ did you?" Yugi grinned. "Heck no. There were like, six months or something like that before that dice game with you and Bakhu'ra where he was a complete psycho or something, punishing everyone that hurt me or my friends—for a pretty loose definition of _hurt,_ sometimes, though the punishments were usually ironic parallels of the crime so the less horrible you were, the less harsh your punishment was. Still, there were a half-dozen or so people that got set on fire, one guy who got stung by a scorpion , um…Ushio still sees money everywhere, he had to get locked up in a mental hospital…there's that guy who thinks he's got a bunch of watches and clock faces and springs and stuff growing out of his skin…oh, and this one time, he played air hockey with this one guy with the table made of a hot iron griddle and the puck made of ice with a vial of gunpowder in it…do I really need to go on?"

Bakura blinked. "Um. No, no, I think I'm good, ta."

"Of course, he felt horribly guilty about it once he remembered his conscience. Took a while, but he got it. Went pretty quiet for a while. Then he zoomed straight into Perfect Hero Mode and never really resurfaced. Well, except for that thing in Death Valley…" Yugi looked sombre. "But hey, that's the past, right? So, what'd Marik have to do to convince you to go along with purple?"

"It is _dark lilac_!" Marik barked from across the room. "_Dark lilac,_ you got that, shrimp? I, Marik Ishtar, would _never_ select such a blasé colour as mere _purple!"_

Joey and Tristan busted up laughing; Tea and Yugi fought giggles, and even Bakura cracked a smile.

"Don't call Yugi a shrimp, Marik," was all he said.

"Or what, you'll tell the Pharaoh on me?" Marik snorted. No one noticed Yugi's wince, except maybe Bakura.

"Or else you'll be sleeping on the futon downstairs for a week," Bakura replied matter-of-factly, "and _I _will re-paint this room in earth tones."

* * *

"_I am the son of Akhnamkanon. My name is Atem!"_

Yugi awoke in the middle of the night, gasping for air, with the sheets sticking to every bare inch of his sweaty body. Peeling them away from him, he climbed out of bed and dug around in his trunk for a moment, searching for a dry pair of pyjamas.

He'd thought the dreams might get better once he wasn't living in _their_ room anymore. But they weren't. If anything, moving had just served to make his reality even more alien from the golden times he longed for, made the dreams that much more believable.

The dreams always began the same way: with a nightmare, and the nightmare always started the same way too. The Ceremonial Duel, and Yami—_Atem—_walking through those doors, that _damn blue coat _rippling behind him until it wasn't a coat anymore, it was a cloak, and then the doors rumbled and slowly, so achingly slowly, came to a thunderous close.

And though that was the worst part of the nightmare, it went on—forcing Yugi to live through an incredibly lifelike world where he was alone, with no Puzzle and no Yami; a world where he got good grades, and bad grades, and never picked up a duelling deck again, and got accepted to Sennen University but it didn't matter because Yami wasn't there…

That part was always very quick. Then—_then _came the part that _hurt. _The part where he woke up—or thought he did…

_Drenched in sweat, Yugi's eyes snapped open, his breathing too harsh and too fast. Slowly he calmed himself, fixing his eyes on the ceiling of his room at the game shop. That dream had been so _real…

"_Can't sleep, can you?"_

_With a start, Yugi sat up and saw the Pharaoh sitting on the edge of his bed, near the foot. His arms and legs were crossed, and he was watching Yugi with a concerned expression._

_Yugi relaxed a little more—the dream _hadn't_ been real, Yami was proof of that. He shook his head, letting himself accept the soothing feelings which emanated from his other through their bond. "Huh-uh."_

"_Nightmares?"_

"_Yeah."_

_Yami stood and circled the bed, re-seating himself at Yugi's side with his back against the headboard._

"_What about?" Yami asked in his deep voice, the voice Yugi could feel rumbling through the ethereal pharaoh's chest now that he was closer._

"_You. Gone." Yugi snuggled into the ancient spirit's side as the Pharaoh wrapped his arms around Yugi and told him softly that he would always be there._

"_You promise?"_

_He chuckled._ _"I swear it on the tomb of my father Akhnamkanon—"_

"I am the son of Akhnamkanon…" _The words seemed to hiss softly through the room, too soft to be anything more than imagination, Yugi knew, but he nestled closer to his other all the same._

"—_I will _never_ leave your side, Yugi. Now, you should get some sleep, _aibou."

_Yugi smiled at the word. '_Aibou'. _'Partner'. "Stay with me?"_

"_Always."_

_And slowly, he went back to sleep…_

"_Or are you waking up?" a soft, menacing voice asked, and Yugi could almost swear he heard the faintest snatch of birdsong…_

Sometimes Yugi wondered whether _this _was the dream and _that _was reality. But one day, when he'd been bored, he'd read one of the books on psychology Bakura kept lying around, and concluded that since the self who woke up with Yami had perfect recall of the nightmare even whilst denying its reality whereas here-and-now Yugi retained only sensations and impressions, and the rarest of conversations, from his Inception-esque dream-world, he was, in fact, awake at this present time. And didn't _that _just _suck._ How was he supposed to move on when every night, he had _dreams _about having _nightmares_ about being trapped in the very world he was doing the moving on in? _Especially _when those exact same dreams in_sis_ted on reminding him of all he had lost, conjuring up a figment of _mou hitori no Yugi _to comfort him and tell him that he didn't _have_ to move on, because reality wasn't really real at all…

_Ugh_. _Note to self: Never try to puzzle out a dream/reality paradox at five AM. _Especially _after staying up 'til one._

Thank God there were still three weeks before the semester started. If he'd had to get up at some ungodly hour the next morning in time for classes, he'd be _screwed_.

Unfortunately, he hadn't remembered to tell the alarm on his battery-powered clock that he didn't have to get up at some ungodly hour the next morning in time for classes, and the wretched thing started screeching less than an hour later, just as he was finally getting back into something approaching a rest state. Yugi flung himself at the clock, fumbling for the OFF switch. As he started to settle back into bed, he realised he was still holding the clock and tossed it vaguely at the bedside table. It skidded to the side, knocking the photograph Solomon had given him onto the carpeted floor.

With a groan, Yugi hauled himself fully out of bed, padding over to where the photo had fallen. Clumsy fingers grasped the frame, and as he struggled for a better grip one of his fingers slipped and flicked open the catch holding the back of the frame in place. The piece of black cardboard flopped out onto the floor.

Along with two folded notes and a face-down Duel Monsters card.

Yugi stared. Then he pulled the chain on his bedside lamp and gently set the photo down on the table, before bending and picking up the unexpected finds.

He set the Duel Monsters card aside for now, sure it would trigger some memory and set him off crying or something stupid like that. _God,_ his groggy mind realised. _I'm like some hormonal teenage girl. Maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea. Now how to talk to a therapist about my problems without winning a one-way ticket to a posh little suite with rubber walls._

_Oh God, did I just think the word 'posh'? I've _got _to stop talking to Ryou. Or maybe just read this note._

He tried, but to his dismay it was taped sealed, and he just didn't have the dexterity to open it right now. So he put it aside with the card, and unfolded the other note.

_So, this is kind of awkward. Jaden here—remember me? The sees-ghosts-kid? Yeah. So, to tell the truth, I'm actually from nine years in your future. I mean, from the year it was that I duelled you, because I don't actually know—no time 4 this u'll be back ne sec. Neway I got sent here by future version of u who told me 2 stick card + note here so don't get mad I'm in ur stuff k? U said card is __**important**__. g2g, was fun getting game on with you!_

_J Yuki_

Yugi blinked. Jaden was…from the future.

_Well, I mean, it would explain why his hair looks like a Kuriboh._

But seriously? Time travel? A version of him from—Yugi counted—_seven years_ in the future had sent Jaden Yuki back in time to duel _himself_ as Yugi was _two _years ago? That just sounded needlessly complicated. Not to mention, how the _hell_ was he supposed to be able to effect _time travel?_ Sure, Science Marches On, but not _that _fast, and he didn't _have_ magic anymore; he'd lost that along with Yami. Part of the whole sealing-the-Shadows-away shtick.

Just. What. The fuck.

_Wow, you are _potty-mouthed _when you need sleep._

_Thanks for noticing._

_Anytime. You _do _know I'm just a fragment of your mind, not Yami back, right?_

_Go. The fuck. Away before I cut you out with a rusty spork._

_Inadvisable—_okayI'mgoingjeezIthoughtyouwerekid dingI'msorry.

_Thank you._

Ugh. His head _already _hurt from going all metaphysical on his dreams and then parsing the _txt spk_ which Jaden had lapsed into in his haste.

He decided, what the hell, if 'future him' had said the card was important; he might as well look at it. At least _that_ might give him an idea what Jaden was talking about.

So he picked up the card and, fighting down an inexplicable feeling of anticipation, flipped it over.

And then dropped it. His eyes skipped over the name of the card, _seeing_ but not really taking it in, not processing what he was reading because it was _impossible_, it couldn't be…

—_iris th—_

—_y Dra—_

—_Os—_

—_e Sk—_

—_gon—_

_Osiris the Sky Dragon._

* * *

_Dear Me, _it was his handwriting, oh God it was his handwriting,

_I know this is a huge shock to you (I mean, it was a big shock to me and you're me so…wow, this is even harder than figuring out what pronouns to describe Yami with) _he called him Yami, not Atem, Yami, and he put that extra sharp slant on the Y for Yami just like he did—the tiniest little change from the Y in his own name, no one noticed that, ever _but it's true, I swear it is, it's true. You've been having dreams, right? Nightmares within dreams, and when you wake up, Yami's there and everything's okay. But then you wake up, and he's __**not there**__, and it breaks your heart _oh God, he knew, how did he know? _because he's gone and you just __**know**__ you can't do a thing about it. And I know that even now, you're wondering how I know this but you still don't believe I'm you. So here, let's do a test. Pull out a black-light._

Black-light…black-light…where did he have it? He'd been looking for it recently when he wanted to do one of his CSI puzzles…

He kept reading while he thought, and his stomach jolted unpleasantly at the next sentence.

_It's in the clothes trunk. Right-hand front pocket of the black skinny-jeans with the silver thread. __Really__ need to check the pockets more; at least I only had those on for like half an hour so I didn't have to wash them and ruin the light._

Shit. One little UV flashlight, in the right-hand front pocket of the black skinny-jeans with the silver thread.

_Okay, now think of a word. Any word, doesn't matter._

Any word, any word. Games, movies, books genres series titles chapters lines words '_I don't like lollipops.'_

Lollipops, he decided.

_Got one? Great! Now, flip this paper over and rotate it 90 degrees to your right._

Yugi did so, then felt stupid and flipped it back over to read the rest of the instructions.

_Yeah, guess I should have put this next bit first, huh? Shine the black-light over the centre (I mean, I'm not sure if it's dead centre, but you know)._

Yugi flipped and rotated the letter again, then picked up the UV flashlight and ran it over the paper.

_I…P…O…_

No way. Yugi moved the black-light to the left and started again.

_L-O-L-L-I-P-O-P-S._

_Lollipops._

Holy crap. It was true. He was reading a letter from _future him._

_Thought that would get your attention. Well, I say __thought__, but with the whole being-you thing, it's more like __knew__. So anyway. I guess you're wondering what the point of this letter is, huh?_

Well, yeah.

_Then I'll tell you. Take a deep breath; make sure you're sitting down. Okay?_

Yeah, okay.

_Right. Now listen—er, read—very carefully._

_You can bring him back._

Yugi was immediately glad he had taken his own advice, since the roaring in his ears and the black spots on his vision indicated that he was now very close to passing out. Had he read that right?

_Yes, you did. You. Can. Bring. Him. Back. You can bring Yami back._

And hadn't this been the plot of a _Doctor Who _novel at one point?

_Yeah, I thought about that when I wrote this letter. All I can say is that I don't think psychic paper comes with glow-in-the-dark ink, but if you're not sure, you can always just pass it to someone at breakfast and figure out what _they _see, right?_

Oh yeah.

_Also, I'm not a Weeping Angel, just…just trust me on that one, 'kay? The key to everything is the Osiris card I had Jaden leave with you. I know Yami took the three God Cards with him when he left. And you know that, too. So you really have to wonder: how did I get it?_

_Easy. Yami brought it with him when he came back to me._

When he came back…

_Just like he's going to come back to you. Now listen very carefully…_

* * *

"_Now listen very carefully," _Yugi read aloud, as the rest of the household stared dumbfounded at the card in the centre of the table. _"You're going to have to head back to Egypt with this, okay? Take your Duel Disk, and go back to where it all began. Then you'll have to summon Osiris. Next, call out 'Si Ra Atem, __Nisu-b'ty__! Ankh Udja Seneb!'. That'll summon the aspect of Osiris into the hologram."_

"Aspect of Osiris?" Marik squeaked. "As in the _god_?"

Yugi giggled and continued reading _"And yes, Marik, that is Osiris-as-in-the-god, and aren't you glad _I'm _writing this letter instead of Yami?"_

Joey snickered. "Dat's our Yugi, still gettin' us today seven years in da future."

Yugi laughed even harder. "It says, _why thank you, Joey!_ Anyway. _This is going to be one of the most awkward conversations of your life, by the way. Once Osiris gets Himself to the point of asking you what you want, tell Him this: 'My future has sent me the key to my past, for my present is no longer whole and on this day, you wrongly keep a soul in Neter-Khet.' That should pretty much do it. And _yes_, Marik,"_ Yugi read hastily as Marik opened his mouth, _"I _know _Neter-Khet is the domain of Anubis. But there are extenuating circumstances which will soon become apparent._

"_Well, that's all the help I can give you. All I can say, is good luck._

"_Love from seven-years-in-the-future, all of you!_

"_Yugi Motou."_

"Trippy," Tristan noted.

"Yugi, what are you going to do?" Tea asked.

Looking determined, Yugi scooped up Osiris. "You guys are going to think I'm pathetic," he warned.

"But I'm gonna get Yami back!"


	2. The Master of the Game

_**A/N: So I figured that I'd mention**_**now _that _**_**I'm**** a**** Spiritshipper. Because it gets kind of hard to tell that about halfway through this part. Curse the siren song of yaoi...always bringing out the Puzzleshipper in me. Dammit, Tea exists too! *beats head against wall* I'm pathetic...**_

_**As you may have guessed from the aforementioned note, there is boy-on-boy smoochin' here in Part the Second. However, it is (in my opinion, at least) non-explicit. Hell, I don't think there's even any clothing off-takeage. It's like, two paragraphs, easy to spot and easy to ignore, if that's what floats your boat.**_

_**Also: The chapter titles are not my own words. They are lyrics from the song**_**Memento Mori, _by Kamelot._**

* * *

Truthfully, Yugi had expected dismay at his announcement. Or at least, you know, mild disapproval but support in all things because, hey, friendship.

Certainly, he hadn't expected that they would all burst into cheers.

"Hey, like _you're_ the only one that misses the arrogant prat?" Marik had commented.

"He's our friend too, Yug'," Joey had agreed.

"I _knew _it wasn't right for him to go," Tea had said fiercely. "I'll help you get him back, Yugi!"

Later that afternoon, Yugi had called two people: Solomon Motou, and Ishizu Ishtar.

Upon being told that there was a way to bring back Yami, Yugi was fairly sure that Solomon had started crying quietly.

"I'm happy for you, Yugi," he'd said at length. "I know you've missed him—well, everyone has. But have you thought this through? Isn't he supposed to be at peace?"

"Bakura asked that too," Yugi had admitted. "We've looked the letter over—the general consensus was that I sounded _way _too happy to have torn Ya—Atem from his eternal rest. Or I don't know, maybe I _should_ be calling him Yami; I did in the letter…plus, part of the words to get him back are 'you wrongly keep a soul in Neter-Khet'. _Wrongly._ All we _really _know is that he walked through a door and his fashion sense got dialled back five thousand years. Who knows where he really is?"

"The evidence is more compelling than I could wish," Ishizu had observed calmly once he'd called her as well. "I have always been dubious of the ending of the Pharaoh's story. After so long knowing that the two of you could not be separated, that you must be together to be whole; at the end, to separate you? No. I wish you great fortune in this endeavour. I will meet you at the Cairo airport and drive you to the Pharaoh's tomb."

Touched, Yugi had replied "Thank you, Ishizu."

"You are most welcome…_Si Ra _Yugi."

And with _that _cryptic comment, she had hung up.

So now Yugi stood in the sand before the ruined entrance to Atem's collapsed tomb, fingers gliding easily through the familiar motion of locking a Duel Disk on his arm.

_Damn, I really should have called Kaiba too,_ he reflected belatedly. _Oh well._

Breathless with silent anticipation, Ishizu, Marik, and Joey (Marik wanted to visit his sister anyway, and Joey would probably die before he'd stay home when there was excitement to be had) stood in a semi-circle behind him—some _ways_ behind him; six months had not been nearly long enough for them to forget just how _big _Osiris the Sky Dragon was.

Yugi took a deep breath and held his left arm out, straightening it and making a fist. To his eternal shame, he nearly jumped in surprise as the holographic projectors detached.

_It hasn't been _that _long. Has it? I need to start duelling again!_

Kinaesthetic memory proved to be a lovely thing, as without even consciously thinking about it, Yugi brought his arm across his chest as the blades of the Duel Disk shot out and up, angling it down his body as the blades turned ninety degrees and locked in place; a fluid motion which ended with him holding his arm bent, his elbow level with his hip and the Duel Disk flat on his wrist. An electronic beeping tri-tone alerted him that the Duel Disk was functional and ready.

_Heh. I forgot how cool that looked._

Yugi reached into his pocket and pulled out Osiris, eyeing the dragon warily for a moment. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his very fingertips, could hear it crowding out all the other sounds in his ears.

_This is it,_ he thought. _Moment of truth._

And with a quiet prayer of _Please don't hate me for this, Yami,_ he played Osiris in Attack Mode, pulling his fingers away from the gentle pulse of static electricity which held the card in place.

"Come forth, Osiris the Sky Dragon!" Yugi cried, in a not-half-bad impression of his darker half's Command Voice.

With a slight shimmer in the air, the holo-projectors worked their 'magic'. Moments later, Yugi found himself hastily reminding himself _it's just a hologram, it's just a hologram._

'Just a hologram', but Osiris was _really _big. And had not one, but _two _sets of vicious-looking _enormous _fangs.

Oh, and that small detail that it wasn't going to be 'just a hologram' for much longer, if Yugi didn't want to have been wasting his time.

"_Si Ra Atem, __Nisu-b'ty__! __Ankh Udja Seneb!"_ Atem Son-of-Ra! Pharaoh! Life, Prosperity, Health!

Osiris roared and coiled in a way Yugi was pretty sure Kaiba hadn't programmed it to, and it—he—He?—opened His mighty first jaw. Yugi braced himself for either total obliteration or a deep, booming voice a la Wizard of Oz.

So he was a little surprised when the Dragon said "Well, _you're _not Atem." His voice was light and dry; perhaps an octave deeper than Yugi's own. The only shock value was the volume, but then, He was a _very _big dragon. Still, it was a little amusing to think that _Yami_, his Yami,could probably beat this guy for vocal intimidation.

Except for the whole 'god' thing.

"Um, no," Yugi replied, shaking his head. "No, I'm not Atem."

"Huh. Are you sure? I could have sworn you were for a moment there," Osiris queried.

"No, no, I'm Yugi. Yugi Motou."

"Ah, so you _are _Atem! Half of him, anyway. Lovely. Always wanted to meet the Pharaoh Atem."

Yugi blinked. '_This will be one of the most awkward conversations of your life.'_ _I guess Future Me has a talent for understatement._

"You should have met the other half already," he said, confused. "He passed into the Afterlife about six months ago." Amazing how calmly he could say that now.

"Hm? Six months, that's what, half a year? And a year is one one-hundredth of a century…so…that would be a…two-hundredth of a century ago? Oh dear, I've always been terrible at maths," Osiris observed sorrowfully.

"I think that's right," Yugi nodded. He wasn't certain, but he wasn't going to bug Marik for his phone and tap out the calculations with the _King of the Dead_ standing—erm, levitating—right in front of him.

"Incidentally, why am I a dragon?" that god asked.

"Oh, it's the whole…aspect thing…" Yugi said lamely, gesturing to the card on his Duel Disk.

"Ahhhh. Right, yes, the Dominion of the Beasts. Always forget about that," Osiris reflected, tilting his massive serpentine head up towards the sun. "Hm. Well, as it happens, I _haven't _seen your other half wandering around my kingdom. Are you sure he isn't still in Neter-Khet? No, of course not, pharaohs get preferential treatment, and Atem did the whole save-the-world thing. About five times or so. Huh. Weird that I haven't seen him around, you'd think I'd notice something like that…Katie! 'Nubis!"

The Sky Dragon went silent and still for a moment, wiggling claws and tail in a strictly programmed manner.

"L-Lord Osiris?" Yugi called.

The Dragon twitched again. "Yes, sorry about that. I needed to talk to My secretary for a moment, and that step-son of mine…gah, impertinent jackal-headed—well, never mind." Osiris coughed, and Yugi winced at the thundering sound. "Katie swears that not one singular _fragment _of the soul of Pharaoh Atem has crossed into the Afterlife, though she _did_ rather rudely suggest I might investigate glasses if I couldn't see he wasn't there for Myself…snotty little witch, wouldn't even keep her around but she's _so _good with people and even better with getting all the paperwork filed on time, and of course she acts like the sweetest little thing around everyone _else_. Teacher's pet, that's what she is; I think Lord Ra would kill Me—_again_—if I tried to fire her."

This was fascinating, but Yugi felt it was rather getting off track. "But she said he's not there?"

"Yes, yes, there are no Pharaoh Atems or portions thereof in any Afterlife I rule, I assure you."

"_Are_ there ones you don't?" Yugi asked the god.

"Wouldn't you like to know," He replied. "As for 'Nubis, He's—ahm—being rather cryptic, actually. It comes, I suppose, of being _born _a god rather than just being _made _one—They're _raised _to believe that giving a straight answer is terribly _mundane, _totally unbecoming of a god." Osiris sighed. "I know, right? Anyway, He wants to talk with you." Osiris flicked his mighty tail towards the collapsed entrance of the tomb, giving the side of it a hefty _thump_. The rubble blocking the opening tumbled free, and the god carefully manipulated the pillars until they rested in balance with each other. Further rumblings underground indicated that the un-collapse was running its course through the tomb

_Divine intervention,_ Yugi thought rather giddily, and then _nope, not a hologram anymore_. He glanced back at Ishizu, Marik, and Joey. Marik looked like he was fighting back peals of laughter, if the tears rolling down his cheeks and the hand stuffed in his mouth was anything to go by. Joey looked utterly nonplussed.

Ishizu looked professionally impassive, though there was a slight twitching at the corner of her mouth. Of course, that might have been the distance talking.

"What about my friends?" Yugi asked. Osiris looked over at them. "You lot stay there," he informed them.

Ishizu and Marik nodded; Joey looked indignant. "No way, man! Where Yugi goes, I go!"

Osiris blinked. "Um…okay, you do realise you're arguing with the King of the Dead, right?"

"Listen, I don't care _who _you are, I'm here for Yugi and I'll _stay _with Yugi."

"Well, hurry up then," Osiris snapped. Then, before Yugi's eyes, He began to shrink until the Sky Dragon seemed about as high as the average man—coiled up and levitating, of course. "Since the other two actually know the meaning of _reverence, _they can just stay where they are."

Joey dashed down the side of the dune Yugi's friends stood upon, catching up with Yugi just before he stepped inside. Yugi shot his best friend a relieved look. _Thank you,_ he mouthed.

"Good luck, my Pharaoh!" Ishizu called down after them. Joey gave Yugi an odd look as they descended the steps of Atem's tomb, following Osiris the Sky Dragon. "Eh, Yug', do old habits die hard or did she just call you _Pharaoh_?"

"Likely the latter," Osiris answered before Yugi could hazard a guess. "It's entirely accurate, if untraditional. Your friend _is _the Pharaoh Atem—just not the half that remembers the fact."

"Huh." Joey rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I never really thought about it that way before."

Yugi shook his head. "Neither did I. I thought Yami _was _Atem. I mean, I knew we were halves of a whole, but not that I was—that he—my head hurts."

Soon—far, far too soon for one lifetime, in Yugi's opinion—they found themselves in the central chamber of the tomb. Yugi was almost afraid to look. Yes, there was the stage where they'd duelled their last, the Eye of Ra cradled in the feathery wings of Ma'at; there were the hieroglyphs that told the whole sad story and wished Yugi's beloved other self a safe journey to the Afterlife…

And there was the Wall of Wadjet.

Yugi stopped dead for a moment, unable to take the weight of the memories. Joey laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Yug'?"

"Oh God," Yugi breathed, hiccup-like, not caring that it was probably borderline sacrilege to swear by a foreign God in this place. "Oh God, Joey, he's—I miss him so much—I can't be here, I can't do this—"

"Yug', that's _why _we're here, that's _why _we're doin' this. Ta get him back! Come on! If you can make it t'rough today, dis place—all dese memories—dey'll mean _nothin', _got it? _Nothing,_" he enunciated clearly, squeezing his friend's shoulder groundingly.

Yugi looked up, meeting his eyes. He wasn't smiling, but as Joey watched, his lips tightened and his eyes grew determined. "Right!" he said fiercely, nodding.

He could do this!

"Are you two actually coming, or should I just be getting back?" Osiris drawled from where he floated by the Wall.

_I can do this I can do this I can do this I can do this,_ Yugi reminded himself as he neared the Wall that had taken Yami from him. _Oh, _help.

When at last Yugi and Joey stood by the Wall, the air shimmered for a moment. For a brief instant, the image of a jackal-headed man in traditional Egyptian ceremonial gear was visible; then that image shimmered as well. An instant later, a tanned Egyptian man that reminded Yugi quite strongly of Shadi—or at least Shaada—stood there instead, dressed in—khakis and a pale-blue button-down?

"Father Osiris," Anubis—for really, who _else _could it be?—greeted the Dragon. "Flamboyant as always."

"Oh _yeah, _like it's _My _fault some creep chopped Me into pieces and I came back from the dead with _green skin_," Osiris scoffed, wriggling his red serpentine body indignantly, rolling his glowing golden eyes. "I mean, discrimination will get you _nowhere_, 'Nubis. Seriously, haven't you seen _Wicked?_ Would you tell _Elphaba_ that she was _flamboyant as always?_ What about the Incredible Hulk? What about _Thrall_? What about _Kermit _the _Frog_, you—you anti-green-guy!"

Anubis gave His stepfather a weary look before turning to Yugi. _"Heba-Nisu. _Well met."

"_Heba_ what?" Joey muttered, but Yugi had spent the last three or four years of his life playing host to an Ancient Egyptian king, and so he bowed, having some idea what to say in reply. "Lord Anubis. I am honoured that you have received me. May your scales be ever true."

Anubis, to His credit, looked impressed. "Well spoken, young one. _Heba-Nisu,_" He continued, turning his head slightly in Joey's direction, "can be rather loosely rendered in your tongue as Game King."

"Oh," was Joey's response, not quite sure what you were supposed to say to a god who'd just called your best friend by his gaming title. In Ancient Egyptian.

"What is your purpose here, _Heba-Nisu?_" Anubis asked, eyeing Yugi appraisingly. "Choose your next words carefully, young one. Very carefully indeed."

_Ritual words,_ Yugi realised. _He's asking for ritual words._ And so, remembering the letter, he said carefully, "My future has sent me the key to my past, for my present is no longer whole and on this day, you wrongly keep a soul in Neter-Khet."

Osiris sighed. "See, if he'd been petitioning _Me_, all _I'd _ask for is a 'Hey, can I have the other half of my soul back now, kay-thanks-bye?' But _noOoo._ _Gods._"

Anubis's lips turned upwards slightly. "I do indeed. It is a long and twisted path you have laid down for yourself; much of it is not yet taken, but it all leads to this moment." He looked grave. Well, grave-r. "There is a heavy price to pay for altering time, _Heba-Nisu,_ and a heavier one still for exchanging death for life. Are you willing to pay it?"

_Yes_, Yugi nearly cried, but then he paused. Having been _raised_ on mythology, he was all too aware of the ironic prices often exacted in these circumstances. Such as, Yami could be returned, but he and Yugi would never be able to see each other. Or, they could both be stripped of their memories. It was even possible that Anubis would demand _Yugi's _life in exchange, opting for the simplest route and simply swapping their positions, so that Yami was the one missing _him._

"I would ask a—no, I would ask_ two _questions," Yugi modified hastily.

"Oh?" Anubis raised an eyebrow.

"Is Yami happy?"

"He is at peace," Anubis replied evasively.

"Yes," Yugi persisted, "but is he _happy?"_

"He is at peace," Anubis repeated.

Yugi crossed his arms, almost glaring at the god. "Yami gets _bored,_" he said. "Are we talking the good, living-a-happy-life kind of peace or the nothing-ever-happens-kill-me-now kind of peace?"

"He is at peace."

"_The CIA does not operate domestically_," Osiris muttered.

Yugi sighed—obviously there would be no certainty from _that_ quarter—and grabbed Joey's wrist, preventing the frustrated blond from slugging the God of Burials.

"Your second question?" Anubis prompted.

"Oh come on, you can't even give a straight answer to his _first _question and now you're asking for Take Two?" Osiris snorted, writhing gracefully.

"You know the rules as well as I, Father Osiris. Your second question, _Heba-Nisu?"_

"What is the price?" Yugi asked.

Anubis reached out and tapped his face, beneath each eye. "Your eyesight. Not all at once, but gradually, naturally. In two, perhaps three decades at the most, you will be completely blind."

"Twenty or thirty years is a long time," Yugi replied quietly.

Anubis raised an eyebrow. "For others, perhaps. For you, in time, it will seem quite brief indeed."

"Time flies when you're having fun? Countdown to doom?" Yugi shook his head. "I think I'll be fine."

"Yug', are you sure about—"

Yugi shot Joey a Look that Yami would have been proud of. Joey fell silent, resting a hand supportively on Yugi's shoulder. Yugi's second look was much more appreciative. "Remember, Joey," he said quietly. "When I said He was wrong to keep Yami, He _agreed. _That's got to mean _something_."

Then, he turned head to face the two gods, meeting Anubis's god-gold eyes. Yugi wasn't sure how he knew what to say—if Yami were here, he'd have sworn the pharaoh had spoken through him.

"I accept the price." His eyes and voice hardened. "And I claim what is mine."

"As is right and just," Anubis replied formally. "Stand aside, Joseph Wheeler. Your task here is done."

Joey looked warily at Yugi, but did as the Burial God commanded, taking three steps back. Osiris swarmed forward, touching His sharp muzzle to Yugi's forehead. The Dragon shimmered, changing to show a tall man with a deeper-than-average green tint to His already-olive skin and long black hair in a braid down His back, in traditional Egyptian ceremonial gear.

"The price is paid," Osiris declared sombrely. Yugi glanced down at his Duel Disk and saw that his God Card was gone and the device was folded. Osiris held up the card. "I'll hold onto this until you need it again, huh?" He winked. "Good luck, kid. Don't be paying Me visits at home for a while, got it?"

"Not planning on it," Yugi said, laughing shakily. He didn't _feel_ any different, but Anubis _had_ said it would be gradual.

Osiris nodded and turned towards the Wall of Wadjet, clapping Anubis on the shoulder as He went. "All you, kid. Don't forget to pay the wife and Me a visit, y'know? Here We are, practically partners, but you never call, you never write…what's a guy to do?"

He touched his hand to the Eye of Anubis on the Wall. The Wadjet's Snakes writhed and shimmered for a moment, and then Osiris was gone, leaving Yugi and Joey alone with the now-jackal-headed God of the Grave.

Anubis stepped forward, bare feet noiseless on the tomb floor. When He was less than a foot from Yugi, He held up his hand, palm up, but instead of another mystical shimmer, there was a sound like a thunderclap.

Outside the tomb, Marik and Ishizu dived for the Land Rover as grey-black clouds swept in with unnatural speed from the east, shedding sheets of frigid rain over the blazing desert sands.

Tiny bolts of dark energy gathered over Anubis's palm, sending off a shower of sparks onto the floor.

Anubis took the last step forward and thrust the dark, crackling mass into Yugi's chest. _"Be at peace, Son of Ra,"_ the god cried in Ancient Egyptian. _"Your Afterlife is nigh!"_

Joey threw an arm over his eyes. "Yugi!" he shouted. "Hang in there, Yug'!"

Yugi couldn't hear Joey over the screams that suddenly filled the room. Who was screaming? Why?

Oh. He was. He was screaming, shrieking as the dark energy wormed its way through his body, searing through his blood.

_Oh God…let it end, _Kami-sama_, Ra, Set, I don't even care…_

And then—it did. He could still feel it, the darkness pulsing through him, but it didn't hurt. The rest of the world fell away as Yugi gave in, letting the power in, conceding to the void.

No, it didn't hurt. The energy only intensified, and yet the pain only receded. The darkness felt…familiar, somehow. More than familiar, he registered as it continued to pour into him, it felt _good._

He bit back a moan. _Really_ good.

"Yugi?"

Was that Joey again? Yugi wished he would go away; this was a very _private_ sort of good.

"Yugi, is that you?"

No, it was too deep to be Joey and it was cool and soothing like the darkness, it was _good_ like the darkness, sending beautiful little tremors and tingles up his spine, his neck, his scalp... It _was_ the darkness. But the dark had no voice, not anymore, not since…

"Yugi? Answer me, please. Please, where are you? _Aibou?"_

_Aibou._

Aibou!

Yugi felt his eyes snap open, though he still couldn't see anything in this total darkness. "Pharaoh?" he whispered.

"Stand up, _aibou_," the voice said again. Yugi got the vague impression of footsteps behind him. "A winner shouldn't be on his knees."

"What have I won?" Yugi asked bitterly, realising the truth. A memory, that's all it was; a tormentor with stolen words. He'd probably passed out or something. Hell, maybe the whole note-from-the-future thing had been a dream.

"Well, I suppose it depends on your point of view." The rich baritone voice sounded slightly amused now. "But after everything you've gone through to get here, I suppose you could say you've won me."

Yugi raised his head. "Won…you?" His eyes widened and he clambered to his feet, spinning around to find his nose inches away from a black tank top. He blinked and took a step back, startled. There, dressed in shirt, jeans, and boots identical to Yugi's own, stood the lithe, pale form of Yami Yugi, one hand on his hip and a smirk on his lips.

"Yami!" Yugi cried, and flung himself at the man, who chuckled and wrapped his arms around the teenager.

"Yugi," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of his partner's neck. Yugi tightened his grip on Yami's waist, determined not to let go for anything.

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other and breathing.

"_Aibou_, this isn't over yet," Yami said at length.

Yugi pulled back a little to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"For me to be back—for me to _truly_ return—we have to restore our bond," Yami replied in his grave, serious voice.

"How?" Yugi asked.

Yami smiled lightly. "Do you remember when I taught you how to empty your mind?"

Yugi nodded.

"What was the first step?"

Yugi's brow crinkled in thought. "In order to empty your mind," he recited, "you must first open it."

Yami nodded. "But instead of opening _inwards_, to gather all your distractions together, you must push _outwards_; break down the barriers between your mind and the rest of the world.

Yugi fought down the mental image of cracking open his skull to eliminate the barriers (he somehow doubted Yami was talking about something so mundane) and nodded. "Okay. What will that do?"

"It will allow us to join our minds together once more," Yami explained. "My spirit has already been returned to you; it has once again fused with your own. The link between our souls has been re-forged and it is stronger than ever. But that is only part of our bond; our minds are still separate, much as they were when you first completed the Puzzle. So now you must open your mind, _aibou_, and let me in."

"Okay. I'll try." Yugi closed his eyes. Yami did the same.

_Open my mind…but how?_ Yugi remembered how he'd opened his mind inwards, giving himself access to all the little thoughts and sub-thoughts and distractions. He'd drawn everything inward, like a magician pulling an open handkerchief tight through the gap between two fingers, until there was only a tiny point left, and then the point just _popped_ out of existence. The 'point', Yami had explained, was made off all the inner barriers Yugi had in his mind. Once they were gone, he could find all the distractions and shut them down—'place them in face-down mode', Yami had joked—in order to quiet his mind.

If opening his mind inward meant shrinking things down, maybe he needed to make things _grow_ to do the opposite.

So he gathered himself inward, down to that little point. A bud, he realised; it was a bud.

Now all he had to do was make it bloom.

Yugi _pushed_ out, feeling the 'bud' open gracefully outwards, its petals filling his mind and beyond, stretching further and further—he noticed with a sort of detached humour that his mind-flower rather resembled a water-lily or a lotus blossom.

Then he felt something brush against it, softly, gently, more like a sigh than a touch. Yugi hummed in pleasure.

A moment later, a silky voice murmured, _Let me in._ Another soft brush. Aibou,_ let me in…_

Yugi somehow knew exactly what to do. He pushed a little further, exposing the centre of the 'flower'. He didn't resist as the _silk-dark-restless-other/same_ slipped inside, pouring straight into his core. With a sigh, he drew the flower inwards, sealing _cool-other/same-dark-half _inside himself.

Yami, he remembered as his mind pulled closer, restoring his thoughts. That was the name of the darkness within. Yugi wasn't sure, distant as he was, but he thought he heard his other's voice—a long, low moan of satisfaction and longing.

For a moment, Yami did no more than tentatively brush against his mind from inside, tantalising Yugi with cool, silk-soft darkness. Then his mind opened, first only a little, then a little more. It did not bloom like Yugi's had, for Yami's mind was no flower of young certainty, of gentle curiosity, of inner strength, of peace and a prayer for safety, but with the determination to fight for survival no matter the odds. Yami's mind was a storm, a storm of cold, driving intellect and fierce, blinding rage, of passion and heat and a constant compulsion to do the impossible, to strive beyond what others settled for, and a determination—no, more than that: a total, all-consuming _need_ to _win_; determination, drive, and it was pride, such pride, some deserved, some not. His mightiest strength, yet his ultimate sin; it was what made him great, and what had thrice brought him crashing down. His fatal flaw. Arrogance. Hubris.

Yami's mind was a storm, and storms did not bloom. They broke, and Yugi braced himself to fall, tumbling into his partner's mind.

But the fall never came—as though Yami was holding back somehow? But why? Didn't he know you couldn't hold back the tide…?

Yami was somewhat less philosophical than his partner at the moment. _So good,_ he thought, unable to fight back a moan as Yugi's mind enveloped his. Light. _Light. _It was so bright, so warm, blazing into the depths of his soul like the desert sun, and he could feel his mind inching open in response. Powerless to control himself, he murmured incoherently and pressed his lips to Yugi's neck, pulling his partner even closer to him.

"Y-Yami," Yugi stuttered, eyes slipping open. Yami fought the urge to let himself go, to fully open his mind and lose himself in Yugi's—because he couldn't risk letting Yugi get lost in _his_. The pharaoh bowed his head and kissed the sensitive spot where Yugi's neck and shoulder met.

Yugi gasped. "Y-Yami, you have to—to open—" Yami parted his lips and suckled the spot, teasing and caressing, shifting his arms until he held Yugi by the waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. "—oh my God—!" Yugi threw his head back, writhing against his other.

It wasn't fair, he thought disjointedly; Yami knew every inch of Yugi's body, had intimate knowledge of his sensitive points, his fetishes, his innermost desires. This wasn't the first time the pharaoh had taken advantage of the fact, either—but this wasn't the giddy relief of getting through a tournament, or averting the Apocalypse (again)—this was a crisis, this was make-it-or-break it, why was he fooling around?

But _oh, _it felt _amazing._

"_M-mou hitori no b-boku…_please, you—oh, my God—you have to—oh, _yes,_ don't stop, don't stop, _oooooh_…no, you have to—your mind—oh _Ra_, Yami…!"

Yami began trailing his fingers up and down Yugi's spine in a curious, syncopated movement, and began to gently nip at the spot on his neck as well.

"God—_Kami-sama_, ah, _yes, _right there…_more_…dammit, Yami!" he swore, pounding the heel of his hand against one of Yami's shoulders. "Listen to me!" Yami's only response to this was to intensify his ministrations.

_Two can play at this game,_ the boy thought grimly, and reached out with his mind, probing Yami's mind gently with tendrils of light.

Yami stiffened, pulling away. "Y-Yugi?"

_Come on, Yami,_ Yugi thought to him, persuading him. _This is the point of it all—re-building our bond. Why won't you help?_

"I—it's too strong," Yami stammered. "_I'm _too strong, I can't—hold back—I will break you if I don't—"

_I'm stronger than you think. Please—Yami, I need you. All of you._

"_Aibou…_"

_Partner. Prove it. Please, Yami, let me be your _aibou. _I let you in, I trusted you. Trust _me_._

"Trust…" _**Yes. Yes, I trust you. Hold fast, my **_**aibou. **_**I cannot hold back.**_

_I don't want you too._

_**As you wish…**_

Yami flung his mind open wide, felt himself teeter on the precipice. _Beautiful, _he thought dazedly, and let himself fall without a second thought. Tumbling through the darkness, immersing himself in the light.

_Bliss,_ the spirit hummed happily, pressing his lips to Yugi's in a simple, wordless affirmation of unity…and then he was lost.

Their minds twined around each other, darkness filtering through the light from where it rested at light's core.

Yugi felt it when Yami surrendered, and smiled a little before giving in to the temptation himself, letting the darkness claim him.

* * *

"Think he'll be alright?" Yugi heard the words dimly as though through a fog. Whoever spoke them had an extremely strident voice, loud and piercing; he wished they would stop.

"What precisely happened, Joey?" Ah, that voice was much better, soft and warm and calm. Still a little louder than he really wanted right now, though.

"I'm not too sure." Oh, oh, _accent_, argh! Please stop talking… "One minute he was standing there, talking to…Them…and the next dat Anubis guy shoves some kinda black lighting into him yellin' something in Ancient Egyptian and he started shivering an' screamin'. Den he just keeled over and dat jackal-headed creep just vanished! Didn't even say anything!"

"That's when you realised that the Millennium Puzzle had re-appeared?" the nicest voice, the soft one, asked.

"Sure, yeah, I'm surprised he didn't impale himself on it when he fell," the accented one replied.

"I don't think you _could_ use an Item to kill its bearer," the strident voice interjected. "I mean, it'd be poetic and ironic and all, but I can't see the Items letting it happen."

"Not like dey've got brains tucked up in all dat shine," Accent countered.

"No, but they have a will; a will to be used, to be borne by the one destined to bear them, and they do not lightly take being denied," Soft replied.

"So I'm guessing the sudden reappearance of Yugi's Egyptian bling means the Pharaoh's back?" Strident asked at length.

**Such**_** names…wake up, **_**aibou,**_** we're worried about you.**_

Mou hitori no boku…_five more minutes…_

_**You've already had about five more **_**hours**_**, on top of the eight someone your age **_**should**_** be getting. **_Pause. _**Thirteen hours, Yugi; it's time to wake up.**_

_Thirteen's unlucky. Wake me up in an hour. And make them shut up, please._

With a sigh, Yami extricated himself from Yugi's mind and tucked the boy away in his soul room before sliding easily into control and opening their eyes.

"Yugi!" Joey exclaimed, hugging him.

Yami's lips twitched, as did his hands—as though he wanted to embrace his friend, but wasn't quite sure if it was acceptable. "Not quite, Joey."

Joey pulled back, startled, and examined his friend's face—sharp chin, fine nose, a slight smirk tugging at the lips; heavy lashes around eyes that were neither as impossibly wide or as pale a shade of purple as Yugi's, and high, wide cheekbones that you could cut yourself on. Joey's knuckles ached at that thought, even as his smile broadened. "Take Two?"

Yami blinked. "What—"

"Yami!" Joey exclaimed, hugging him and driving the breath he'd taken in to speak right out of his body.

This time, once he could breathe again, Yami returned the embrace, but very soon Joey pulled back again, rubbing his sternum ruefully.

"Ow. Forgot about the shine," he said by way of explanation.

Somewhere in one of their minds, Yami recalled that 'shine' was an occasional slang word for jewellery of an expensive and/or gaudy nature, and looked down.

There on its heavy steel chain hung the Millennium Puzzle, gleaming as ever like it was made yesterday. Yami touched it gingerly, reverently, and was suddenly grateful for the softness he could feel around his neck (he _really_ needed to get to a mirror; he hadn't been looking at Yugi's clothes when they'd been re-united and he had _no _idea what he was even _wearing_ right now) cushioning the chain.

"Okay, since I know for a fact we were watching baby-faced Chibi-Pharaoh sleeping up 'til a minute ago, I'm going to be obvious and ask where _he _went," Marik interrupted.

Yami quirked an eyebrow at him. "You still call him that?"

"Eh…_again_ might be a better word," Marik shrugged. "Good to see you again, Pharaoh. But seriously, Yugi?"

"Still asleep," Yami replied, fighting back a smirk.

Ishizu noticed. "Pharaoh?"

Yami focused his eyes on her, while his voice took on a rather wry note. "I noticed you three were becoming somewhat concerned that he had yet to awaken, and endeavoured to induce him to do so myself. _After_ he mumbled something along the lines of 'five more minutes'—"

Joey choked, snorting laughter into his clenched fist.

"—I informed him that he'd had substantially longer than that; thirteen hours, to be precise. He then proceeded to inform me that thirteen was an 'unlucky number' and consequently demanded a further hour before lapsing into a deeper state of sleep."

Marik started laughing too, while Ishizu looked a lot like she was biting her lip before she too gave in and chuckled for a moment.

Yami took advantage of their distraction to slip out of bed and pull his trainers back on—_trainers, _really?—before glancing out the window. No mistaking that sky; they were still in Egypt. This was, undoubtedly, the Ishtar residence.

Both members of that family and Joey were still laughing; giddy with the euphoria of relief that both of their friends were safe. Yugi's admittedly amusing self-prescribed sleep simply gave them an excuse. Their distraction also gave Yami an excuse, and he went to go find a full-length mirror. It was perhaps a testament to the vanity of at least Marik that there was one just down the hall.

In either direction.

Hm. Not bad. Plain black tank top, plain black jeans, plain black shoes. Surely six months—he gleaned the detail of the time from the surface of Yugi's sleeping mind—hadn't been long enough for Yugi to _completely_ forget the basics of accessorising? Yami sighed. No, wait, there was a choker too—a splash of colour amid the basic black, besides the Puzzle.

Blue. Royal blue. Yami's fingers brushed the canvas band gently, feeling the gold-yellow embroidery on its surface. The pharaoh closed his eyes and smiled faintly. People might not be his strong suit, these days—although memories of his time as Atem were helping with that—but he knew his partner's mind well enough to guess why he wore _this _colour, _this _design.

_I missed you too, _he thought, and fancied he felt a little flicker of acknowledgment and thanks from his other's soul room.

* * *

_Seven Years Later_

"Just think, Jaden. What most struck you about our duel?" With a faint smile, Yami treaded gently away through the sands of Jaden's heart, so like the sands of his beloved once-home. For an instant, the garb of the Pharaoh Atem enveloped him as he passed into the Shadows, emerging at last in the chamber in the Academy where his deck had been stored. He straightened his blue coat, tugging on the cuffs.

"Remarkable condition," he commented aloud. "Considering how long we've had it."

Suddenly Yugi's _akh _materialised, smiling at him, looking innocent and childlike as ever—a little taller, perhaps, his cheeks a little less round, his form a touch more defined, but still undeniably Yugi Motou, not Yami Yugi.

"'_Course. It's not just any jacket. Coat. Cloak. Thing. It's _our_…coat."_

Yami chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Indeed." He dipped a hand into the display case once more, lifting out their deck. "And so the tale of Yubel and the Supreme King comes to an end, and the story of Jaden Yuki may truly begin. I believe we may take this back now; he has no further need of our cards."

Yugi looked sombre. _"I don't think Yubel will ever truly leave him. After all, after you—left—everyone talked about how your story, the story of the Pharaoh, was over but that _mine _was just beginning. Except it's not _my _story, and it wasn't _yours…_it's _ours. _Always has been, always will be."_

Yami smiled slightly, but warmly. "Indeed. And for that, I am most grateful." He tucked the deck away in the deck case hanging from the low-slung belt at his hips, closing the case with a sharp _snap_ that echoed through the chamber.

"I wouldn't put that away just yet."

Yugi blinked out of sight and Yami's eyes snapped towards where the voice had come from. "Who's there?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

The shadows at one end of the room—not shadows, _Shadows—_swirled for a moment, and then the tall form of Osiris stepped through. The greenish-skinned god raised a hand, and waved the card in it at Yami.

"Hey, Atem! I did say I'd be getting this back to you when you needed it, didn't I? Can't have one of the Egyptian God Cards going missing right before your next tournament, can we?" He handed the card to Yami. Osiris the Sky Dragon.

Yami smiled. "My thanks, Lord Osiris."

Osiris waved a hand airily, shrugging His shoulders carelessly. "No need, kid. The two of you deserve this, yeah? Just do Me a favour and don't go evil, okay? Letting you out was Anubis's call, but you're sorta dead, which means it's _My _ass on the line when it comes to you, got it?"

"Of course, Lord Osiris. I certainly would not wish to make trouble for you. Although," Yami added, "might I ask of you a question?"

Osiris shrugged again. "Sure."

"Yugi. None of the others have noticed, really, except perhaps Bakura for obvious reasons. Yet, he hasn't aged since the day I returned to him."

Osiris raised His eyebrows. "Hasn't he?"

Yami rested a hand on his hip, restraining himself from glaring at the god. "No. He hasn't. I was wondering if, in your nominal omniscience, you might know why."

"Technically, that still wasn't a question—" the pharaoh's lips thinned, and Osiris added quickly "—but I'll answer it anyway. No, he is not aging and no, he never will. Once parted from its _ba, _a _ka _ceases to age. The presence of an un-aging _ka _preserves the _ba _to which it is tied, and since Yugi's _ba _is linked with two _ka's, _one mortal, one immortal, both _ka's _have become immortal. Barring outside interference, the two of you will live forever, and your body will be sustained for as long as your souls require that vessel. Your body can be harmed, and it can grow ill. Either of you can be stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated, poisoned, contract a disease…anything that would kill an average human will kill you, save Time."

Yugi phased into visibility, looking distressed. _"But—my friends—_Tea_—"_

"—are mortal, and human, and physically average." Osiris looked uncharacteristically solemn. "All lives end. All hearts are broken."

…_Did He just quote _Sherlock _at me?_

_**Worse. He quoted Mycroft.**_

_Well _that _was sensitive of Him._

"I can offer you little comfort there, I am afraid, save what I did before: although Time will not touch you, all other weapons may…no matter who may wield them. My kingdom is always open to you, _Si Ra _Atem…both of you." And with a nod to them both, Osiris melted away.

Yugi's _akh_ jumped about a mile high as his phone rang. The Millennium Puzzle shimmered for a moment, and Yugi took control of their body to answer it.

"_Moshi-moshi, _this is Dr Yugi Motou. Oh, hey Tea. Yeah, we'll be there—Tea, what was that? _What do you mean, _my study?" Yugi yelped. "Look, if those two have ruined my desk, forget Yami, _I'm _going to kill them, and you can just _tell_ Marik that and see if I care! Hm? Yeah, I borrowed a Kaiba-Copter. Be there in an hour, and _get them out of my study!_ Ooh, better yet, think we could get Joey to arrest them? Please? Well yeah, but it's _my desk._ Okay. Yeah. Uh-huh. Like I said, we'll be home in an hour or so, okay? Okay, I gotta go now—love you too—"

_**And me!**_

"—so does Yami—yeah, okay—bye." Sighing, Yugi hung up, running a hand through his hair, swearing softly as the fine, long strands tangled around his golden wedding band. "Ever wonder what it'd be like if everyone else had moved out of the house after graduation? Or if _we _had?"

Yami smirked, but it was a nice smirk. _"Boring?"_ he suggested, raising a spectral eyebrow.

Yugi laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."

* * *

_Seven Years Earlier: Present Day_

"Okay, that was…weird…" The low, cold English voice susurrated through the small bedroom. "Funny, I don't remember getting my heart weighed, and yet here I am in Hell. Purple-painted Hell."

"For the last time, Bakura, it is _not _purple, it is _dark lilac!"_

"Marik?" Dark brown eyes locked on the Egyptian. "Oh, _bugger._ I don't suppose _you _know where we are?"

Marik's eyes went wide as he took in the wild white hair, the slightly pointed teeth, and the ever-present glower.

"_Oh-my-gods Bakura!_" he yelled, hugging the Thief King tightly. Bakhu'ra's own eyes widened.

"Get off me, you idiot! Now tell me where we are, why we're in the same bed, and _why the bloody hell are we naked?_"

And from his position in the corner of the room, the _akh_ of Ryou Bakura gently smiled.

* * *

_**A/N: Yup. I'm a Thiefshipper AND a Spiritshipper. Just goes to show, huh?**_

_**Kudos to those of you who caught the **_**Amy's Choice**_** reference midway through. No kudos if you spotted the **_**Sherlock**_** reference; you would literally have to be both blind and deaf (cause if you're blind and reading fanfiction, I've got to assume you've got one hell of a reader program installed) not to have.**_

_**And did you see what I did? **_**WHAT I DID?**_** I braved watching Yu-Gi-Oh GX AND exploited its plotholes for the SOLE PURPOSE of fixing YGO Original in a totally conceivable way (provided your brain works backwards like mine, anyway) and THEN—AND **_**THEN—**_**I brought Yami back WITHOUT giving him his own body and I STILL squeezed some yaoi in!  
SQUUEEEE!**_

_**Tea: ...you better be DAMN glad I'm into that yaoi stuff. Otherwise I might be pretty pissed that you gave the closest thing to a sex scene in here to the Wonder Twins.  
**_

_***Ahem*. Now that I'm done feeding my ego, it's your turn! R&R, and as always, all types of comments are welcome. Even ones that prod my ego-balloon with pointy things.**_


End file.
